


Wake up.

by orphan_account



Series: Fleeting [6]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alcoholism, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-16
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 07:24:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'll do anything for you,<br/>Kill anyone for you.</p><p>So leave yourself intact<br/>'Cause I will be coming back.<br/>In a phrase to cut these lips,<br/>I love you.</p><p>Wake Up -- Coheed and Cambria</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake up.

No, this isn’t fucking fair. Tony had raced down here, saved his big green princess, and now he should have been able to go home. Instead there’s the big man himself, General Ross, all moustache and sneer as he puffs at his fucking cigar. He’s in the captain’s chair in a gigantic army green mecha, thumbs over the triggers to the shoulder cannons, and it just pisses Tony right the fuck off.  His mask flips down and his infrared senses about five more of these things in a circle around them. There could easily be more off in the distance.

Bruce is completely shell-shocked. He hasn’t moved an inch since the mecha snapped a tree next to them. The guilt that this is all Tony’s fault twists again. “JARVIS. Get me contact with General Ross.” The line opens up and he hears Ross’s heavy breathing from inside his probably nigh-impenetrable hull. “Fury called you, right? Well, I got Banner. You can go home now.” He puts himself in between Bruce and Ross’s mecha.

Ross’s laugh echoes inside his helmet and into the mic, making Tony wince. “Fury didn’t tell me Banner had Iron Man on patrol for him. Cute. “ Tony throws his arms out, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Bruce standing up, holding his arms over his head like he’s offering himself up. No no nonononono _no._ It does not have to happen this way, and will not, ever.

“Director Fury cleared me to take Banner back.”

Another horrible laugh. “And you and I always take our orders from SHIELD, don’t we? Don't worry, Stark, I'm not here to hurt you. Why don't you get out of the way and let the _professionals_ handle it." Tony braces himself into the soft forest floor, and he can see General Ross squinting through his window. Ross’s fingers curl over the buttons on top of his joysticks, he lines up; Tony bristles and tells JARVIS to put all the power in the thrusters.

A blood-curdling scream sounds off behind him, and Ross and Tony both move back away from Bruce. “DON’T TOUCH HIM.”  Definitely not Bruce’s smooth tenor voice anymore. He sees the familiar sneer, his spine pop in and out of place as he transforms. Fuck, he’s fighting it hard. General Ross shoots at his feet, and a scream rips itself from the bottom of Bruce's hollowing lungs, from  somewhere that isn't quite him. Birds fly out of the trees from all the terrible noise, and a few of Ross’s trigger-happy crew shoot at them and miss. The shoulder cannons don’t angle correctly. Not designed to shoot up. Tony knows an opportunity when he sees one.

He grabs one of Bruce’s wrists, and his green eyes look up at him with so much loathing that a spike of fear crawls up Tony’s spine. “Gonna take care of you, big guy, just gotta—“ His helmet takes a hit and his systems flip the fuck out for a second as they fight to stay online. Another shot to his back. Tony can’t hold onto Bruce’s wrists anymore since they’ve grown too wide, so he lets them go and wraps his arms around his waist instead. The Hulk, now in full form, roars as he takes his first few blasts of energy. Tony can feel the quiver of his muscles through the suit. Ross is screaming and cursing in curt army language at his crew and more come out of the shadows.

Tony tries to take off, but Hulk is heavy, and currently arched against him like a fussy toddler that doesn’t want to be held. “Let me—help—you,” Tony spits out, arms curling tighter around his bulk. They’re taking shots from all directions now, and they _hurt_ like fuck—Tony might be getting burned by shorting circuits—but he can handle that, and he deserves so much worse.

Hulk is finally too much for him to handle, and he gets thrown back-first into a rubber tree, and he slides down. Hulk snarls at him, but doesn’t come over to him, and he points down like he’s directing a puppy. “TIN MAN STAY.” Tony does, because he can’t do anything beyond ripping his mask off so he can _breathe_ , and watches Hulk bound over to Ross’s gang. The light is so bright from the energy cannons he can’t look anymore, and Tony hears a tree rip from the ground. The light becomes less of a burn against Tony’s eyelids, and he opens his eyes to see the Hulk using a tree twice as wide as he is like a baseball bat against the most immediate mechas. Wood scrapes metal in a sickening screech, and Tony winces and cups his ears with his hands.

Half a mecha suit is thrown into the tree next to Tony, and he flinches away from the blood pouring out of some poor redshirt’s guts. There’s no kind of beauty in his destruction, at all. Maybe it was cool when they were all beating the fuck out of some aliens, but this is spinal cords and intestines and the stench of human blood and death searing up from the jungle floor. The Hulk himself is smeared with blood all down his chest and arms, some caught under his black fingernails. When he sneers at the still-standing Ross, Tony can see red in flecks on his teeth. It sends a shiver down _his_ spine, and he doesn’t even care if the army fucker dies.

But Ross beams a clean mile through the trees and runs away, someone else shoots at the Hulk’s eyes during the critical moment, and after all that Hulk is left getting blasted and staring off after him. He can’t even fight anymore without Ross as a keystone, and the Hulkbusters descend in a tight triangle like a pack of velociraptors. Patches of flesh-color show through on the Hulk’s skin, and Tony snaps into a panic. Fuck, fuckfuckfuck he can’t turn back now. The Hulk looks back at him with the same gauntness Bruce had in his face from being on the run, and he’s _scared_ , he’s huge and scared and turning back and Tony has no idea what to fucking do.

He smacks his arc reactor in his suit in some last-ditch attempt to get his main chest repulsor to work, and it hurts through his chest to his spine but he keeps smacking and rotating and God, the thought Ross is getting back up _right now_ sinks in and he has to make this work. “Jesus H Goddamn Christ, come the fuck _on._ ” It clicks, and it hurts like a fucking bitch when it clicks, but he shoots a glorious straight shot and knocks two of three mechas off the Hulk, and Hulk is still able to throw the last one off into kingdom come. Tony fist pumps into the air and feels that down to his bones, and the Hulk bounds over to him, topples him over like a too-big dog, and before long he’s holding an unconscious Bruce in his arms again. The remaining Hulkbusters slink off down the path Ross made, apparently unable to continue without clear instruction like most military units.

He can stand up. That’s good. He can carry Bruce, even though it strains a little more than it usually would in his suit. But he can’t fly, and he can’t get his communications back up. Stuck in the middle of a jungle with an unconscious scientist in his arms. It’d make a really good cover for a romance novel, he thinks with a biting laugh. The next instant he’s upchucking against the trunk of a tree with Bruce wedged up out of the way. Oh, lovely. Wishing for a drink is probably the wrong thing but he sure as hell doesn’t want to be in this sickly, shaking withdrawal state-thing either.

Tony rips off his helmet and slumps against the same tree with his head in his hands. Fuck. They’re not going to get very far like this, and a trail of vomit won’t be hard to follow. His palm rubs sweat off in his eyebrow and he hangs his head trying to be less dizzy, less nauseated. Bruce stirs, and Tony smiles at him because he can’t fucking help it. Bruce’s glasses went missing again, probably shoved up some mecha’s ass--who knows--but he’s awake, breathing, only slight bruises peppering his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Those are the first words out of Bruce’s mouth. Tony just looks at him and laughs because his hair is all ruffled, his pants were Hulked completely off this time, he’s squinting to focus his eyes, and he’s asking Tony if he’s okay. Only Bruce.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” He squeezes Bruce’s hand the gentlest way he knows how with a metal glove and tries not to wretch again. He hopes the suit makes up for the slight tremors. Bruce slumps against his shoulder again. Apparently the only reason he woke up was to ask one question. Tony chuckles dryly to himself and kisses the top of Bruce’s head. Flipping the helmet around in his hands, he starts figuring out what the fuck happened to his circuits. He’d almost be happy to see SHIELD right now if it means Ross won’t come back to haunt both of them. Definitely happy to punch Fury in the face. He starts connecting and reconnecting wires, knowing there’s no way in hell he’s going to give up until they’re both back home.


End file.
